Holic
by masqvia
Summary: She was raised to see them as tools, and at first, it felt strange to watch them kneel. Then it became addictive. [Warring States Era. AU. Madara/OC.]


**A/N:** I have no idea what's happening, but it's happening.

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 **Holic**

 _Won't we be quite the pair?—you with your bad heart, me with my bad head. Together, though, we might have something worthwhile.  
_ —Zelda Fitzgerald

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 **One**

"Do you have it?" She murmurs, folding her hands in her lap.

The figure kneeling in front of her nods stiffly, then pulls a small vial from a pocket on his belt. The dull glass in his hand catches the light of the single candle nearby. "It's a new combination of ingredients. Untraceable and untreatable, as you requested."

She inhales and feels a rush of excitement. How much of it came from their secret meetings and how much of it was due to what was in his hand, she isn't sure. "May I?"

He wordlessly hands the bottle to her. She carefully inspects the vial, taking her time. _Tiny, fragile... so nondescript that no one would think twice._ Her eyes light up with delight. She could always count on him to deliver on each of her requests, regardless of what they were.

"Chiharu."

The lack of an honorific immediately snaps her attention back to the man kneeling in front of her. The amount of people brazen enough to do so could be counted on one hand, and although he shows no indication of acknowledging what he just did, but they're both aware he did it on purpose.

He always pushed boundaries with her.

It makes eyes narrow, but she lets it slide. They were alone. "Yes?"

"...Be careful."

A coy smile tugs at her lips. He thinks that _she's_ going to be the one to—? "Your concern is touching… but we both know how this is going to happen." She opens her palm towards him. The bottle sits innocently in her hand and the request is clear.

His gaze slowly goes from her, to the bottle, then back to her. There's a brief moment of hesitation before he takes the item back.

She notes with pleasure that it takes much less prodding this time around.

She never does like repeating herself.

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"You killed again," intones her brother the next afternoon. He doesn't sound surprised by the turn of events.

Chiharu brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear as they walk. "You know I did no such thing."

He side-eyes her with a particularly bland expression. "At least put some effort in when you lie to me."

"I would never lie to you," she responds easily. "Mother, maybe. Father, _definitely_. But you? Never."

He sighs in response but refrains from commenting further until they reach their destination. Guards and servants all kneel to them as the two pass. The castle feels smaller these days. She remembers being able to run through it as she pleased; she still could if she really wanted to, but the action would reflect poorly on her reputation.

Certain members of the court already liked to defy her on the sole basis of her gender—in private, of course. Outright disobedience would result in death and none of them were stupid. But she knew the whispers which circulated. Garnering influence and power beyond the basis of what her status permitted was already an uphill battle; if she wanted to be taken seriously, then she had to act in specific ways.

They reach her favorite courtyard and take their time walking towards the pond in the center. The samurai who had been silently trailing them become sentinels by the entrance.

"Father will be displeased," her brother says once they've made enough distance to talk privately.

Chiharu reaches out and gently touches the tall blades of grass beside the path as they walk. "I don't particularly care."

He gives a distinct sigh of exasperation. "This is the third time."

"And you'd think after the first two deaths the pattern would be obvious," she says. "Everyone except our father seems to know what awaits the men he insists I marry. I'm glad you didn't inherit his dull brain, Ieyasu."

"And you said you had nothing to do with Tamahiro's death," he says wryly, arching an eyebrow at her.

Her hand drops to her side as they near the edge of the pond. "I said I didn't kill him."

Ieyasu stares at her, frowning in confusion. She remains quiet long enough until understanding finally dawns on his face. It quickly melts into concern. "You had that Uchiha do it." It's not a question.

Her smile widens.

He looks away from her, clearly unsettled, but again not fully surprised by the discovery. "...You know father will retaliate."

"By pushing more men on me?"

"You know he has other methods," her brother murmurs. She can see him peering at her from the corner of his eye. "Disobedience isn't something he tolerates, even from family."

The corners of her lips turn up in a sharp, lazy curve. "He wouldn't dare."

"You are playing with fire, Chiharu," her brother cautions her. "Shinobi are not like samurai. You know their loyalty will always be to coin. What do you plan to do when he leaves?" He gives her a pointed look. "And he _will_ leave."

"You mean he will die," she clarifies for him, settling next to him on a nearby bench and stretching her legs. "I'm well aware of how a shinobi's life goes."

"Yet you persist all the same," he says with a tinge of frustration. "I am father's heir, but I am not yet in his seat. There is little I can do if he decides to…" Ieyasu trails off and glances away sharply, simmering in discontent.

His concern for her wellbeing softens her gaze and warms her soul. Her brother has a good heart. He is gentle, caring, noble. They are all the qualities of a good ruler—and she has no doubt that their people will eventually come to love him.

Not like their father, who like the dozen other lords in the Land of Fire, takes and does as he pleases with no regard to those that serve him. Lords who throw men and resources and wage war against each other—but at the end of the day, achieve no real victories. Lords whose orders are obeyed only because it is what tradition dictates, only because they have sat in a seat of power and privilege for generations and it is simply how things _are_.

Unlike all of them, Chiharu knows that people will eventually come to follow Ieyasu because they will _want_ to.

But she also knows that her brother does not have the qualities of a conqueror, nor the initiative necessary to thrive in the vicious cesspit that is the current state of the world. She knows his forgiving nature will put a dagger in his back before he can accomplish anything of note.

She knows these simple facts like she knows the back of her hand.

Of course, she's never going to let an event like that happen. Unlike him, she enjoys navigating through the intricacies of court and the theater of war. She enjoys setting opponents under her thumb. Between the two of them, she knows they can accomplish great things—they _will_ accomplish great things.

"You needn't worry about me so much," she tells him with a gentler smile this time. "You know I can take care of myself." She gently nudges him with her shoulder. "And you."

The look Ieyasu gives her is borderline pouting. "I just want to be able to do the same."

"Soon," she says. "Soon, you will be able to."

Either he knows her better than she expects, or something in her voice tips him off. He's immediately searching her face and tensing when his suspicions are confirmed. "Chiharu," he begins, startled, "Are you—"

"Yes," she confirms softly before he voices the question. "And I'm going to make sure your legacy is _nothing_ like our father's," she adds fiercely. There's a burning determination in her heart, one she knows reflects in her gaze.

"I'm going to make you the most powerful daimyō of our time," she promises him and means every word. "And I'm telling you now that my preoccupation with shinobi is more than a frivolity. They are the future, Ieyasu. The world is on the cusp of change... and I'm going to make sure our country ends up on top."

There's a heavy pause in the air as the statement sinks in.

Her brother meets her gaze evenly, swallows with some effort, then gives her a slow nod as if agreeing. "I trust you know what you're doing," he eventually murmurs. "You know you'll always have my support. Just be careful."

Chiharu leans back on the bench, closes her eyes and basks in the sunlight. "Of course."


End file.
